


Hand and Foot

by just_a_loser



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, jacksepticeye
Genre: M/M, Sickfic, but mostly banter, just want to be thorough here, kind of fluff, there's a little bit of joking about drugs but nothing serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 14:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_loser/pseuds/just_a_loser
Summary: Ethan’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Ooh, does this mean you’ll wait on me…” he paused for a second, “with feet?” He sounded unsure of the latter part of the question.Sean was baffled. “What, do you suddenly have a foot fetish? It’s a bit late in the game to tell me about that one.”





	Hand and Foot

**Author's Note:**

> Rarepair but it's an interesting dynamic that I wanted to try out.

Sean slowly opened his eyes, squinting from the sunlight coming in from the nearby window. He sat up, letting out a yawn as he stretched his arms. He glanced down at the sleeping figure beside him. A tuft of brown hair stuck up from beneath the covers, the man’s body curled up into himself as he slept. A smile tugged at the Irishman’s lips. Even if he couldn’t see his face, Ethan was adorable when he slept.

It took a moment for Sean to get out of bed, wanting to stay forever nestled in the warmth of the shared bed. But alas, he resisted the temptation and started his day.

It was when he’d finished his second cup of coffee that Sean decided to go check on his boyfriend. Even if Ethan did tend to wake up a bit later than most, he could never resist the smell of bacon that wafted upstairs on the somewhat rare occasion that Sean cooked it. He walked upstairs, quietly entering their room. Sneaking over to Ethan’s side of the bed, he crouched down near his face. “Ethan?”

The sleeping body moaned in response, turning to bury its face in the pillows.

“Ethan?” Sean repeated, poking his back lightly.

Ethan squirmed under the touch, though he still refused to give a proper response.

“Are you okay?” There was a hint of genuine concern in Sean’s voice, though he kept his tone light.

“’m dying.” Ethan flung his arm out, letting it flop over the side of the bed.

His boyfriend chuckled. “Are you now? Well let me see your dying face at least.”

Ethan groaned once more but complied, slowly rolling over until he was lying on his side. “Can hardly breathe.”

Sean surveyed his face. His eyes looked a bit sunken and his nose was red. “You look sick.”

“’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“It’s true.” Sean stood up abruptly, walking into the bathroom. He returned a moment later to stand over Ethan. “Open your mouth.”

Ethan squinted his eyes at the man looming over him. “You know I love you but I’m not really in the mood-”

“Shut up,” Sean interrupted, rolling his eyes. He poked a thermometer between Ethan’s lips.

“Ya know I coul’a done ‘is my’elf.”

“Stop talking ‘round it,” Sean scolded. Ethan huffed but complied, waiting for it to beep.

Once it did, Sean pulled it out of his mouth. “Oh, yeah, you’ve definitely got a fever.”

“Bummer.”

“Does your throat hurt?”

“Kinda. ‘s mostly just my nose.”

“Your nose hurts?”

“No it’s just fulla snots.”

“Ugh.” Sean looked disgusted.

“Why’d you ask then?”

“Well I thought I’d be a doting boyfriend!”

Ethan’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Ooh, does this mean you’ll wait on me…” he paused for a second, “with feet?” He sounded unsure of the latter part of the question.

Sean was baffled. “What, do you suddenly have a foot fetish? It’s a bit late in the game to tell me about that one.”

Ethan shook his head. “No, I mean, what’s the saying? You know, to wait on someone..?”

“Ohh, hand and foot. You forgot a limb there.”

“So you will?” Ethan looked hopefully into his boyfriend’s sparkling blue eyes.

Sean sighed. He did look rather pitiful. “I guess.” He walked over to the door. “Be back in a sec.”

He returned with a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water, crouching down next to the bed.

Ethan groaned upon seeing the medication. “I don’t believe in Western medicine.”

“You’re a big fuckin’ liar. Just take it.” He held out a pill.

“They told me peer pressure would be bad but I never expected it from you,” Ethan mumbled, sitting up slowly. This earned him nothing but a glare, to which he smirked. He took the pill and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with the water. “Nothin’ like those good ol’ drugs.”

“Oh, just wait ‘til they kick in, I bet you’ll have a blast with that decreased body temperature and clearer sinuses,” Sean teased as he took the glass. “Ya hungry?”

Ethan shrugged, flopping back down. “I guess I could eat.”

“I’ll make you some soup then.” He stood up and made towards the door.

“Can you get me some tissue before you go?”

Sean made a detour to the bathroom, chucking a roll of toilet paper at the bed on his way out.

…

It took about twenty minutes for Sean to make the soup, and two trips upstairs to deliver it. One for the tray table, and one for the food itself.

Ethan peered into the bowl curiously. “What is it?”

“Potato soup. Ma’s recipe.”

“God, you’re so fucking Irish.”

“You can complain about my ethnicity once you’ve actually tried the soup!” Sean walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down atop the covers.

Ethan took a spoonful, gently blowing on it before eating it. He swallowed, staying silent.

“Ya got any jokes about the Irish? And more complaints about potatoes?”

Ethan ignored him, going in for another bite.

“I fuckin’ thought so!” Sean grinned, laying back against the headboard. “I make a damn good soup.”

“You do,” Ethan mumbled.

“Hey, how about we take a nap after you’re done there, honey?”

“Ick. No. Weird.”

“No nap then?”

“No, I mean, yes, just…whatever the fuck you just called me, don’t.” Ethan scowled.

“You don’t like it? What about sweet pea?”

“Somehow-” His thought was interrupted by a sneeze. Sean passed him the toilet paper roll. “Somehow worse,” he finished as he wiped his nose.

“Hmm… sugarplum?”

“What’s with your obsession with calling me something food related?”

“Maybe it’s cuz you taste so-” A pillow was thrown in his face, though he heard the giggle from the other side of the bed. He smiled, glad he could make his poor boyfriend laugh when he was sick.

**Author's Note:**

> I like how this turned out. Not my proudest accomplishment, but it's pretty good for a warm up!


End file.
